An Ill Wind that Blows Some Good
by LaCorelli
Summary: While Lydia is in Brighton she seems to come down with Kitty's cough, and while Miss Bingley is at Pemberley, she determines to show that she is the superior walker to Elizabeth Bennet with unexpected results. One-Shot


**Author's Notes:** When I was posting my story _Luck Changes the Game_ , I found myself responding to comments about my rather disconcerting realization that Darcy and Caroline's behavior was not that dissimilar in the first part of the novel, and thus since I realized I was cutting Darcy a lot of slack for his previous poor behavior, that I should not perhaps be as harsh on Caroline (at least at that point of the story), simply because she's Caroline. Anyway, I did say that "now if this story were set at Pemberley, post-Hunsford, all bets would be off and she might find herself more than six inches deep in mud with her hair being positively wild; it's not like she could wear it as well as Elizabeth," and I thought at the time that that might make a fun one-shot, though I did try to put it out of my head as there was another story that I really wanted to get done by New Year's, (and happily I did get it done).

However, I couldn't help pondering possible details, but as I was thinking, I remembered that Lydia's elopement would cut Elizabeth's time at Pemberley short, and I didn't want to do that, and while I really dislike Lydia's oblivious self-absorbed behavior, I can't help but remember she is fifteen, so I do cut her a little slack and hate the thought of her ending up tied to Wickham for life because of youthful stupidity. So I figured why not kill two birds with one stone... um story. And this is the result: another separate case of apparent bad fortune changing things for the characters, though when this story starts, everything is canon up to Lydia's trip to Brighton and Caroline's arrival at Pemberley.

Also, thanks to my husband, for his usual beta work, and it looks like this may be the last story for some time that I can count on his help as he has just left on a deployment. And while he has managed to help me on occasions during previous deployments, during this one, for reasons I cannot get into, it may prove most impractical for him to help at all.

 **An Ill Wind that Blows Some Good**

Lydia Bennet went to Brighton in all the expectation of endless rounds of pleasure— dancing and flirtation, with her choice of officers falling at her feet. She knew her sisters all had to be wild with envy, though only Kitty had shown it. Jane always had to pretend to be content, and Mary hid hers by saying she didn't want what everyone else had. Lizzy was the only one that seemed untouched, since she was going to be traveling again, this time with their aunt and uncle, though Lydia knew that Lizzy could hardly be preferring a bunch of rocks and old houses to the charms of the officers, especially Wickham. What a laugh if she could capture Wickham's attention when Lizzy had failed. She couldn't fail to be absolutely green with envy then. But even if not, Lydia had every notion of capturing a husband for herself. It would be such a lark if she were married before her eldest sisters. Brighton shone so brightly in her mind, that paradise itself seemed to be pale in comparison to her.

In the beginning, Lydia's enjoyment was all she could expect. So many officers and so many social engagements, and she was soon flirting merrily with Wickham, who was as gallant as she could ever expect. But then came the cough.

Lydia had always been the healthiest of all the sisters. She was almost never sick, and when she was it always passed quickly. She'd often laughed that Kitty got all the coughs, while she got all the fun. And now suddenly she had a cough, and Kitty had just written that she had been doing well, no coughing at all.

Well, there's no way she could have Kitty's cough, Lydia thought, though it would be the mean sort of thing that Kitty would do if she could— keep her from having fun by sending her a cough through the mail. Well, Lydia would show them and still have the most fun of all.

Only it didn't work out that way. Her favorites weren't interested in being around her when she started coughing after any exertion and soon sniffling and achiness followed. That was when Colonel Forster insisted on her being confined to her bed and sent for a physician, who was mean enough to say that she needed to remain there until her cold was better.

It wasn't fair. Lydia was stuck in her room, with Mrs. Forster's old nurse looking after her, and she was so severe and strict and insisted on feeding her gruel. At least, the physician wasn't trying to bleed her. Lydia so hated the sight of her own blood. The only relief that she got was when Harriet came in to tell her all the latest news and gossip, but that was a mixed blessing as it made Lydia wild to hear all the wonderful things she was missing, simply because of a stupid little sniffle and cough.

Then one morning close to the time when the doctor said that she would be free to leave her room, Lydia woke to find the whole house in an uproar, and Old Mrs. Grange wouldn't tell her anything when she brought her breakfast, and it took forever for Harriet to come to her, but when she did she brought _such_ news.

It seemed that during the night Mrs. Forster's maid had run off with one of Col. Forster's men, taking some of the household funds with her. And it was _so_ shocking to learn that the man in question was George Wickham. Lydia wondered at him, so handsome as he was, choosing to run off with a _maid_ , and Sally was such a plain little thing, though a good enough maid. Wickham had been so charming, and Lydia had been so determined to win him, but really, to show such sad taste again, and not even with a fortune to tempt him as with that freckled Mary King. And now Wickham would be in _so_ much trouble if the Colonel caught up with him. Lydia wondered if Wickham would be flogged or not. So much trouble for so little purpose. He could have done so much better; he could have married her and had a jolly time and not been in danger of flogging. Oh well, the more fool he.

Soon Lydia would be up and about again, and Denny was so much more agreeable if not so handsome, and there was Captain Carter too, almost as charming as Wickham. Also Chamberlayne was always good for a laugh, and she did love to laugh. She would not repine the loss of George Wickham, and anyway, it would still be such a lark to write and tell Lizzy how her old favorite had chosen yet another plain thing instead of her. Not that she supposed that Lizzy would properly appreciate it, as Lydia now recalled how little Lizzy seemed to care when Mary King went away and was not even properly upset at the thought of the regiment leaving.

Well, then it was good that Lydia had not bothered to try very hard to capture Mr. Wickham. Anyway, she knew Kitty would love to hear the news. She would write, once she was up and had a proper amount of fun to add to the scandalous news. Or perhaps now would be better as once Lydia started having fun again, she would not have as much time to write. Anyway, she was not going to let Kitty think she was being all dreary despite having caught a trifling little cough. No, definitely not.

~o~O~o~

At around the same time, far from Brighton, Caroline Bingley was entertaining her own very different thoughts of future felicity and was currently approaching Mr. Darcy's estate of Pemberley with all the enthusiasm of one who knew that she was to be the only eligible female guest for some time, determined that now would be the time that Mr. Darcy would see how well she would suit him and his grand estate. She felt that she had done well by getting both her brother and Mr. Darcy out of Hertfordshire before they forgot themselves entirely, and she felt she had forged a bit of a bond with Mr. Darcy over their joint conspiracy to keep her brother ignorant of the eldest Miss Bennet's stay in town.

Admittedly, Mr. Darcy had been rather unreachable after his return from his visit to his aunt in Kent, and Caroline had been somewhat concerned that it meant that he was seriously considering his cousin as a marriage partner. However, she kept firmly in mind the rumors of Miss de Bourgh's ill health and her belief that Mr. Darcy would care more about the possibility of heirs rather than simply enlarging his estate. In any event, Caroline had every intention of making herself seem far more appealing than any sickly cousin, no matter the size of her estate or dowry.

Caroline had thought it somewhat unfortunate that Mr. Darcy had ridden ahead of the party, but as he had been so distant and unapproachable while they were traveling, it was perhaps for the best that he had enough time to recover from the trip as well as take care of whatever necessary business it was before they arrived. After all Pemberley was a far more romantic setting, with many opportunities for her.

The rest of the journey was spent in planning for how she would win Mr. Darcy's regard. When they arrived that morning, Mr. Darcy seemed more eager than a day's separation warranted to greet the party. While most of his attention was focused on his sister, Caroline felt that there was some additional warmth directed towards her as well. She kept that thought in mind as she was directed to her room so that she could refresh herself and rest from the journey.

She needed to hold to the thought when she finally made her way downstairs to discover that her brother and the Darcys had gone into Lambton, for what reason she did not know. Surely there could be nothing so important as to cause them to need to leave so soon after their arrival. And if there was, surely they could have left a message or given her the opportunity to join them. Well, Lambton was an obscure little village, whose only value was its proximity to Pemberley, and perhaps, Mr. Darcy was using some excuse to give her brother and his sister more time together. Oh, yes, that was it, though surely, it could have waited. Caroline's mind kept running in circles as she waited for their return, wondering what they were doing, planning what she would say and do.

Once they returned, Caroline's optimism lasted only until her brother started speaking, and she learned where they had spent their time and with whom they had spent it.

Eliza Bennet.

Caroline had thought her safely out of her life forever, with her brother separate from Eliza's sister, and Mr. Darcy showing no inclination to return to Hertfordshire and Miss Eliza's fine eyes. He had too much pride to make such a woman his wife, she believed. And yet, much as she would wish to believe that Eliza's presence was inconsequential, Caroline was not fool enough to do so. Did not Mr. Darcy immediately take not only her brother but also his sister as well to meet her not even giving them a day to recover from the trip? Although as she forced herself to listen to Charles, she realized that her brother had somehow learned of the purpose of the Darcys' trip to Lambton and insisted on joining them. That Mr. Darcy would allow this, after the trouble he had taken to separate Charles from Eliza's sister filled Caroline with dread.

Her spirits sank further when she realized that Miss Darcy was speaking to her brother about a dinner in two days' time to which Eliza and her Cheapside relations were invited. The very relations that knew she knew that Jane Bennet had been visiting in London. She could only hope that they would not be crass enough to mention that fact to Charles, but who could tell with people who lived in _Cheapside_? Now she would have to try harder than ever to win Mr. Darcy's notice, when she thought she had a clear field. And then she heard the uncle would be joining the gentleman at fishing the next day. No mention of the ladies, but Caroline did not doubt that having such an opportunity open to them, they would certainly return the call with equal celerity. So she had but one day and night to prepare for the appearance of her country rival.

Pulling herself together Caroline focused on being as charming as possible, especially to Georgiana, from whom she hoped that she could coax a description of how Eliza looked. She could only hope it was poorly, but she found it doubtful if Mr. Darcy were so eager to see her and introduce his sister. But it was nearly impossible to get anything from Georgiana other than basic pleasantries, but it seemed as if she rather approved of her than not. Another matter to add to Caroline's concerns, as Georgiana Darcy seemed rather inclined to echo her brother's opinions. A trait that was useful as times, such as when Caroline wished to express a similar opinion to Mr. Darcy before he spoke of it himself. Not that that had often yielded the results she wished for, but she had never let that stop her.

After a day where she seemed even further from her goal than possible, Caroline went to bed contemplating how she could best show up Eliza Bennet when she appeared at Pemberley. She felt she had already demonstrated her superior accomplishments, but clearly that was not enough. Could it be that despite his declaration that country society was confined and unvarying that Mr. Darcy had a _preference_ for the country, at least for that around Pemberley? He certainly seemed more at ease here than in Hertfordshire. Perhaps what she needed to do was prove that she could fit into the country with more elegance than Miss Eliza Bennet could ever do. Perhaps. And on that note she finally fell asleep.

~o~O~o~

The next day proceeded very much as she had foreseen. The gentlemen went out to their sport, and it was not too long before Eliza and her aunt showed up and were greeted with as much warmth as the quiet little Miss Darcy could muster.

Caroline's first notion was to ignore Eliza as much as possible in hopes of getting through this unpleasant meeting before the gentlemen returned from their sport. But then she considered that having thrown herself into the path of Mr. Darcy, Eliza would hardly be in a hurry to leave, and perhaps here was her opportunity to show her superiority to Eliza in country pursuits. With that in mind, Caroline suddenly spoke up, addressing Georgiana Darcy.

"It is such a lovely day, should we not take a stroll out of doors? I have a desire to see the river."

Miss Darcy looked taken aback for a moment, and Caroline wondered if she had perhaps been too obvious in her desire to see or rather be seen by the gentlemen. However, even with reticence on Georgiana's and Louisa's parts it was soon settled that the ladies would all go out for a stroll. Caroline had been sure to have her finest parasol at the ready as she was determined to keep her complection fair in contrast to Eliza's brown coarseness (and would that not be another sign of her superiority?). Also, while the parties shifted in walking partners as they made their way towards the river, Caroline made sure to be walking with Eliza as they neared the river itself. In point of fact they quite outpaced the rest of the party, Caroline managing to steer them from the path towards what looked like a picturesque hill overlooking the river. She was hoping to be able to catch a glimpse of the gentlemen, the better to contrive their accidental meeting.

Despite her accursedly quick and sure pace, Eliza suddenly evinced a reluctance as they approached the top of the hill. "Miss Bingley, I believe that this may not be quite safe..."

"Oh nonsense, Miss Eliza," Caroline said, glad to see some timidity in her brash rival. "Nothing in Pemberley could be..."

Suddenly the world tilted around her, and clutching at Eliza's arm she tried to regain her footing but somehow ended up pushing Eliza off balance as they both ended up sliding down an unexpectedly steep and muddy incline which had been hitherto hidden from her view. Caroline tried to catch herself but ended up finally landing with a splash at the edge of the river. The very, very muddy edge of the river. In fact, as the mud seemed to almost rise around her as she tried to extract herself from it, Caroline would be almost willing to swear it was quicksand. Pushing back at her bonnet which had been shoved forward somehow in the fall, Caroline looked around to see the dreaded Eliza barely at the edge of the worst of the mud, just starting to try to push herself up from the ground.

Caroline could not believe that she found herself wallowing in a quagmire, while the woman who showed up at Netherfield six inches deep in mud, now seemed to have escaped the worst of it and appeared only mildly dirty. At this moment, Caroline could only hope that they were far enough from the gentlemen so that she might somehow escape to the house with only the ladies of the party witness to her shame.

It was a hope that was immediately shattered as she heard Mr. Darcy's voice calling out and the sounds of men running in their direction. Now Caroline wished the mud would swallow her down, though she had some vague hope that Mr. Darcy would be so overcome with concern for her safety that he would swoop down to rescue from her horrid predicament. It was a hope that was shattered when he headed directly for Eliza who was twisting around awkwardly as she tried to stand up. Mr. Darcy did not even so much as glance in her direction as he was focused on helping Eliza to her feet, with the artful minx falling against him as her ankle was apparently incapable of properly bearing her weight.

 _Faker!_ Caroline thought, aghast at the way Mr. Darcy was holding Eliza, though it was not too much past propriety, and the brazen piece _seemed_ to be trying to stand on her own (a clever ploy obviously). Now if Caroline tried something akin to that, it would only look as if she were copying the artful Miss Eliza. Not that she did not require assistance as her attempts to extract herself from the mud seemed only to plunge her back deeper into it.

However, Caroline had no dashing knight to rush to her rescue, as Mr. Darcy remained occupied with Eliza to the exclusion of her plight and was now speaking to the Cheapside uncle who was the last to reach them, while she could depend only on her brothers, one of whom, Hurst, seemed too busy trying not to laugh at her to render any useful assistance. Not that it was that much better once they tried, as neither man seemed capable of properly getting a grip on her nor keeping their own balance while they did.

By the time Caroline was extracted from the mud, the rest of the ladies had managed to arrive, and she had the displeasure of seeing Georgiana fussing over Eliza and her own sister Louisa standing well back from her as she emerged sodden and muddy. Mrs. Annesley apparently had been sent back to the house to let the servants know what happened and that multiple baths would be required. Caroline had looked on as Mr. Darcy had insisted on personally helping Eliza back to the house. Only Eliza's insistence that her ankle was not badly hurt and her uncle's concurrence kept him from carrying her. Caroline was left bedraggled to be supported by Charles, who did it rather poorly.

Then there was the humiliation of being directed to a back entrance and a miserable bare room for her to bathe. She supposed it was better than where Charles and Hurst were directed, but she could not know for certain. However, she did discover from her maid that _Eliza_ , as she was not _dripping_ mud, had been directed to a guest room in order to clean up. Caroline humphed miserably throughout the entire ordeal, until she could finally slip upstairs to her own room in order to finally be alone with her humiliation.

Even in that she was not spared as she had barely been in her room a minute before her sister came flouncing in after a cursory knock on the door.

"Whatever were you thinking, Caroline?" Louisa asked as she settled down on a chair. "Dragging Miss Bennet up that hill and then tumbling down with her when you tripped her."

"What?" Caroline exclaimed. "I certainly did no such thing. I had no intention of either of us going over that hill. I was simply wishing to see the view."

"Really, Caroline? And what on earth possessed you to suggest us all walking about in the first place? You detest the exercise as much as I."

"I thought it might do us all some good," Caroline said evasively.

"You wanted to impress Mr. Darcy by showing you could be as good a walker as Miss Bennet," Louisa said. "Well, if he could have taken his eyes off her for more than two seconds, he would have seen you had certainly surpassed her in the acquisition of mud."

"Thank you, Louisa," Caroline bit out. "I would never have realized that without you being so kind as to point it out."

Louisa ignored her comment as she continued, "And now, of course, she and her relatives have been invited to stay here at Pemberley for the duration of their stay in Derbyshire."

"What?" Caroline exclaimed, though she knew she should not be surprised.

"Well, naturally, with Miss Bennet's ankle injury and Mr. Darcy's concern for her health, what else could you expect?"

"I thought her ankle was not so bad," Caroline said.

"So it seemed but apparently it has started swelling. Mr. Darcy sent for a doctor to see to it. I imagine he is here by now."

"And has anyone bothered to inquire about _my_ condition?" Caroline asked.

"Well, Charles and the housekeeper, I believe on behalf of Miss Darcy, and your maid told them you were well."

"That is something, I suppose," Caroline said. "Though how I am to face them all after this, I do not know."

"I hardly know either, though I believe Mr. Darcy will continue to be more interested in Miss Bennet's health than your embarrassment."

"So you keep saying," Caroline said with a huff of displeasure.

Louisa rolled her eyes. "I merely want to make it obvious that after this, it is time to put away any hopes of Mr. Darcy. Even if he does not make an offer to Miss Bennet, he certainly has proven he has no particular regard or interest in you for any closer relationship."

"Louisa!" Caroline exclaimed, hurt by her stating the obvious so bluntly.

"I know it is harsh, but I do not want to see you wasting any further time on a hopeless case. I have already talked to Mr. Hurst about us cutting the trip short with the possibility of visiting some other friends' estates. We did have a couple of lesser invitations that we had considered, and it would be easy enough to change them. And there are other good prospects out there."

"I suppose."

"I mean you could always accept Augusta Elton's invitation to visit her in Highbury. You've certainly heard enough of Mr. Knightley of Donwell Abbey to know he's a good prospect."

"Who rarely leaves his estate and disdains London," Caroline said. "I think I have wasted enough time on country gentlemen, don't you?"

"Well perhaps. There is the new Lord Tarminster. He has a reputation for being a bit of a rake and a gamester, but the land is solid, and he is known to prefer Town amusements."

Caroline thought about that. A rake she did not mind, but a gamester was not to her preference. "I will consider it, but how will we manage that."

"He is to be staying with the Glossops and they are old friends of Hurst's family. It will be easy to arrange a visit. They have married off their last daughter, and I am sure Mrs. Glossop would be pleased to forward another match."

Sighing, Caroline acquiesced. It was not easy to relinquish the pursuit of Mr. Darcy, but right now, her humiliation was such that she had no desire to be in his vicinity, nor to witness Eliza's triumph over her as even _she_ could not blind herself to Mr. Darcy's heightened interest in that country chit. No, it was time to retreat, to find a more attainable man.

And Lord Tarminster had no paternal encumbrances either, as well as a fondness for town. Yes, that did sound a much more pleasant prospect as she had no desire to venture any farther into nature than the time it took to exit a carriage to enter a house.

 _Hmm. Lady Tarminster_ , Caroline mused. _How well that sounds, indeed_.

~o~O~o~

Elizabeth could not believe that she had sprained her ankle, a minor sprain but a sprain nonetheless. She never sprained anything, and it had been so mortifying to do so in front of Mr. Darcy, though he was indeed all that was gentlemanly and concerned about her condition. He had even insisted on carrying her once she started truly faltering as they reached the house.

She could feel herself flushing, up and above the pain in her ankle as he had taken her to a room, her aunt and uncle's presence only adding to her embarrassment as she could only guess at what they were thinking. Even more was the conviction that regardless of any and all reason to the contrary, Mr. Darcy truly still cared for her, for even with her tendency to misunderstand him and her knowledge that he truly should hold her in contempt, she could not see his determination to see to her safety and comfort personally as anything less than a continuation of his regard. She also realized that she was genuinely pleased with the thought. He was so altered from the proud man she had refused so harshly and misjudged so badly that she could not help but wish to know him better.

She continued to be impressed by the quiet efficiency of Pemberley's staff. It seemed to be no time at all before she was bathed and dressed in one of Miss Darcy's gowns and the doctor arrived to see to her ankle, which had started to swell a bit, and soon had a poultice applied to it. Elizabeth was also grateful for Mr. Darcy's extending the invitation for her and her aunt and uncle to stay while she was recovering.

The suite of rooms she had been taken to on the ground floor turned out to be his grandmother's old rooms, which she had used once it became too difficult for her to navigate the stairs on her own, and while Elizabeth knew that it was the most convenient room to take her to in light of her infirmity, she could not help but feel it an honor to be housed there. Mr. Darcy was also kind enough to offer her the use of his grandmother's canes so that she could more easily get around once the swelling in her foot went down sufficiently.

Elizabeth had given very little thought to Miss Bingley after ascertaining that she suffered nothing worse than a thorough mudding and apparently a headache that kept her to her room for two days complete. Elizabeth rather felt that the headache was brought on by mortification than anything else, and while Elizabeth shared the feeling, she was more than capable of laughing herself out of it. She was in fact far more frustrated by being confined to a pair of rooms for four days, as she disliked being restricted in her movements. However, she could hardly call herself neglected as she saw much of Mr. and Miss Darcy as well as her aunt and uncle and even a brief visit by the Hursts and Mr. Bingley who seemed more eager than ever to hear about her family at Longbourn though she had no new information to give.

On the afternoon of the third day she was at Pemberley, Elizabeth was somehow not terribly surprised to hear that Mr. Bingley's party was to leave Pemberley earlier than they had initially planned. Mrs. Hurst spoke of dear friends near Richmond who absolutely begged that the Hursts and Miss Bingley visit, and they felt they could not fail them, while Mr. Bingley had suddenly discovered some necessary business drawing him back to Netherfield, so that it seemed most sensible for them all to depart together.

When she saw the Darcys later, neither of them seemed particularly upset about their guests' departure, but instead talked of books, music, and art. It seemed that Pemberley itself housed quite a collection of all three, and the Darcys were eager to show her any and all of them. Her aunt and uncle had been present and the conversation had been delightful, though a part of her wished she could have had more of Mr. Darcy's conversation to herself.

However, she was more troubled by her conversation with her aunt before bedtime, where her aunt was asking her more about her meetings with Mr. Darcy in Kent and her improved opinion of him. Elizabeth had no intention of speaking of Mr. Darcy's failed proposal to anyone beyond Jane, and even with her she had not spoken of everything. In any event, it seemed rather as if her aunt were under the impression that Mr. Darcy may have started to admire her at Rosings, but at that time had either no intentions toward her or had not yet settled his mind on the topic. Not for the world would she attempt to explain the real state of affairs nor how precisely she had come to think better of Mr. Darcy, nor would she wish to discuss anything in relation to determining exactly what Mr. Darcy intentions were. She had only just realized that she did in actuality wish that he might renew his addresses, and yet it seemed almost too much to believe after her cruel words in Hunsford.

~o~O~o~

Elizabeth was sitting in the library of Pemberley with a copy of _Lyrical Ballads_ by her side and two letters from Jane in her lap. Her aunt and uncle were taking the opportunity to visit some friends in Lambton, Miss Darcy was practicing her pianoforte, and Mr. Darcy was occupied with some necessary business. The Bingley party had departed two days' previous. Elizabeth might perhaps have felt a bit bereft, but up until this morning she had had almost too much company, and she did so want to read Jane's letters, the first of which seemed to have been misdirected because of some smearing of the ink on the direction.

Opening the first, Elizabeth learned about Lydia's cold but that she seemed to be doing well under the care of a Mrs. Grange, and that Kitty had been doing very well. Mary was learning a new piece for the pianoforte and their mother's nerves were the same as always. The second letter was a bit more dramatic as besides Jane, Kitty had added her own note to it. In it Jane included the news that Lydia was recovered as well as the shocking news of Mr. Wickham's absconding with the Forsters' maid and money. Kitty added in that it wasn't fair that Lydia was blaming her for her having gotten sick and that it served Lydia right that Mrs. Grange was now acting as Lydia's companion and keeping her from doing all she wanted, since the Colonel was too busy trying to find Wickham to be able to oversee Lydia and his wife.

Elizabeth was quite shocked at the news about Wickham, though she had a low opinion of his character and she was privately relieved to know that Lydia now had a firm guardian to protect her from her own folly. In contemplation of the news, she did not notice Mr. Darcy's presence until he spoke to her.

"Miss Bennet, I hope I do not disturb you," he said, looking rather uneasy before sitting down in a chair near her.

She smiled at him. "No, not at all," she said. "I have just finished my letters, and I must admit one contained some quite astonishing news regarding a gentleman whose name I would rather not trouble you with."

Mr. Darcy looked wary. "What has he done now?" he asked.

"Run off with his Colonel's maid and the household funds," she said. "The Colonel apparently is quite determined to find him and drag him back in chains if necessary."

Mr. Darcy seemed to relax slightly. "Somehow, I believed that Wickham would have a bit more sense of self preservation than that, but it seems I have overestimated him."

"He seems to have little sense when it comes to money," Elizabeth said. "But he is hardly worth discussing. I trust your business has been successfully concluded."

"It has," he said. There was a moment of awkward silence, as Mr. Darcy looked around the room nervously before directing his stare at her again.

Elizabeth took the time to fold up her letters and place them beside her on the table. For some reason, she could not think of a thing to say.

"Have I any hope?" he suddenly asked.

Elizabeth looked up in astonishment, speechless for a moment, which was just as well as Mr. Darcy spoke again.

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.''

Elizabeth could feel a strange warmth flowing through her at his words. Stumbling, she managed to say, "On this subject, I do not think I would ever wish you to be silent again. My feelings have changed so much as to more than welcome that which I once so callously dismissed." She could not bring herself to look at him in that moment.

"And you were right to do so then," he said, moving over to the sofa where she sat, taking her hands in his. "I was not then a man who deserved you. My love then was selfish, my actions in separating your sister and Bingley officious. I thought too well of myself and too meanly of the rest of the world, until forced to face what I had become."

"What of my mistaken judgements? To have believed one man's lies because of injured vanity," Elizabeth said, looking into his eyes. "I hate what I said then."

"I believe that neither of us behaved as well as we ought," he said, "but still the true blame lies with me and my arrogant presumption."

"I would rather we put the past behind us," Elizabeth said, looking at him, "as I believe otherwise we may spend forever trying to claim the lion's share of the blame, and I would rather dwell on how we feel now."

"As would I," he said, gently caressing her hands, before looking back into her eyes. "Now in order to avoid any misunderstandings, I must ask, are your feelings such that you would consent to be my wife?"

Elizabeth could see the hint of trepidation in his expression that had been absent in his first proposal. She took a moment, not to cause him further anxiety, but to be sure of herself. Everything had changed. As he unconsciously pressed against her hands, she pulled herself together and said, "Yes, Mr. Darcy, I do so consent."

He quickly pressed a kiss to her hand. "Thank you, Elizabeth. I promise that you will have no cause to regret your answer."

"And I would promise that you would have no cause to regret asking again, but I am afraid I will always be an impertinent creature and will probably always cause you a certain amount of vexation no matter what my better intentions are."

"Well, I imagine that I will continue to be a proud and stubborn man who will unintentionally vex you as well, but overall I intend to give you no cause to repine our union," he said with a slight smile. "Though now I rather wish your uncle was here so that I could speak with him immediately. And then there is your father to apply to as well."

He looked very much as if he wished to rush out and find her uncle.

"But that can wait, can it not?" she asked. "Who knows how much longer we will be alone?"

He smiled at her. "That is true. Do I ask too much..." he paused. "May I kiss you?"

"I would like that," she replied.

Darcy reached up to touch her cheek ever so gently and then leaned in to press his lips to her own. It was a gentle caress, and yet it seemed to tug at something deep inside. _So this is love_ , she thought.

The sound of the door opening caused them both to pull back suddenly. Miss Darcy walked into the room apparently oblivious to having interrupted anything. Elizabeth greeted her as politely as she could but was not up to much in the way of conversation, and she could tell Darcy felt similarly disinclined, though as it was his sister, he did make the effort not to appear too vexed at the interruption.

It was not too much longer before Elizabeth's aunt and uncle returned. With some alacrity Darcy asked to speak with Mr. Gardiner on a matter of some urgency, and they disappeared into Darcy's study, not to emerge for some time. Elizabeth found herself quite incapable of properly attending to the conversation of her aunt and Miss Darcy but believed they attributed it to her still sore ankle rather than any other motive. Or so she hoped, though the glances her aunt kept giving her made it seem rather unlikely, and eventually Miss Darcy excused herself on some pretext that Elizabeth was unable to recall the moment after she left the room.

Before her aunt could do more than start to ask a question, her uncle and Darcy returned to the room, and the broad grin on her uncle's face as well as the slight smile on Darcy's told her all was well, though neither man said anything. Mr. Gardiner quickly excused himself and his wife, no doubt wishing to inform her of the news.

This left Elizabeth and Darcy alone. He took her hands in his. "Your uncle seemed delighted," he said with a smile.

"A sentiment I'm certain my aunt will share."

"I must go to your father but I hope you will not begrudge my wishing to share my joy with my sister without delay."

"As you should. And what will you say?"

Darcy leaned closer, closing the small gap between them. "That I'm in love."

Elizabeth closed her eyes as he kissed her again. She felt a slight twinge in her ankle but when she looked into Darcy's eyes, all further thoughts of the pain flew from her head. It amazed her that from an embarrassing mishap as her tumble down the hill such great happiness could ensue. In a very real sense, it seemed that Miss Bingley was due some thanks for her part in ensuring her current happiness. Still, it seemed too much like cruelty to express gratitude after what Miss Bingley had suffered. No, Elizabeth decided to let it pass. She had no doubt that Miss Bingley would get over her embarrassment with the quiet dignity and grace she and everyone of her acquaintance could expect.

The End

 **End Notes:**

It was actually a bit weird to be writing from Lydia's and Caroline's perspectives, and I'm not entirely sure I managed to capture them at all. And originally, I was only going to write from Lydia and Caroline's POVs, but honestly, I absolutely couldn't leave off without Elizabeth's. After all, she had her own misfortune, tied up with Caroline's, but still, and after all, I always prefer to end with ODC having warm fuzzy moments of their own. I'm not sure why, as I'm not nearly so obsessive with doing the same for Diego and Victoria when I write antagonist-based Zorro stories, but so it is.

This story's original title was "Lydia Coughs while Caroline Wallows" but that didn't really fit once I added in Elizabeth's section and "Lydia Coughs while Caroline Wallows and Elizabeth Wins" (or possibly Triumphs, as I hadn't decided on which before I went with a title change) seemed more than a bit much and perhaps far too spoilery for this tale and I didn't want to use the word Luck in yet another P&P title, though I rather expect that until I manage to finish my crossover, that people will start to think that I can't write any P&P story that does not revolve around good and bad luck though I suppose my "Mrs. Bennet Wedding Night" talk really isn't about luck but really confusing, mostly useless advice. But then though there's technically no wind, unless you count Lydia's coughing or Caroline's antics, that seemed to be the best fit for a title.

For the scene with Caroline and Louisa contemplating other potential matches, I didn't want to use Henry Crawford again, and I was hard pressed to think of what other Austen heroes might draw Caroline's attention. I know that year and month wise the events of _Emma_ do not really sync up to have them contemplating visiting the Eltons before the engagement of Emma and Mr. Knightley happens, but as it was a bit before it became public knowledge it might work at least for the time of year. Anyway, as I do have Caroline realizing that she really doesn't want a man who prefers the country, the entire point is moot.

Lord Tarminster is actually an OC that will be appearing in the P&P crossover I'm working on (he's not a nice fellow at all, to put it mildly, nor would he be a nice guy here; I think Caroline may be forced to keep searching further for a suitable suitor), though his title is a bit of a _Doctor Who_ reference, and the Glossops are another P.G. Wodehouse reference (it seems if it's not _Doctor Who_ or Austen, it will be Wodehouse when I'm on the look out for a quick name). Also, my husband is responsible for a slight _Young Frankenstein_ reference at the end.

In any event, I'm rarely as ruthless as I could be when it comes to characters, so I'm not sure if this is really a satisfactory comeuppance for Caroline and Lydia for those who really despise them, but I hope it at least provides some amusement; I know I enjoyed the mental picture of Caroline completely covered in mud.

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2/01/2016: Edited to correct abstract to extract as I do actually know the difference between them. So thank you, guest, for pointing that typo out.

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All feedback is welcome and needed. It's the part of the fuel that feeds the muse and does give me an idea of whether I succeeded or failed in my aims, and at the moment some reviews would help cheer me up as I'm rather missing my husband, who beyond being my beta is also my best friend.


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